


Happy Birthday

by Shes-claws-deep (CyrilOdahviing)



Series: Flash Sale Nov 2018 [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Begging, Birthday Sex, Body Worship, Cowgirl, Cunnilingus, F/M, Female Dominance, Femdom, Food Kink, Food Play, Master/Slave, Orgasm Control, Riding, pussy eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 02:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16693378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrilOdahviing/pseuds/Shes-claws-deep
Summary: It's Gabriel's birthday and you know exactly what to give him as a present.





	Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurumstultorum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurumstultorum/gifts).



If there are two days of the year that Gabriel is always looking forward to, it’s your birthday and his. Normally he doesn’t give a damn about his own birthday, but you tend to make it special.

After returning from the base’s birthday celebrations, Gabriel quickly makes his way to your place, beaming at the small slice of cake that sits on the dining table and your smiling self as you greet him at the door.

“Happy birthday, slave,” you purr at him, dragging him in by the collar of his shirt.

Gabriel is having heart eyes long before you tell him to strip and kneel, but when he sees that you’re wearing nothing under one of his hoodies, he almost keels over. “Mistress, are you trying to kill me?” He clutches his breast and leans forward with bitten lips, stretching his tongue out for a moment before you stop him with a finger.

“If you’re going to die now, you’re going to miss out on one hell of a celebration, Gabriel.” You laugh and shuck his hoodie, much to his glee, throwing it over the arm of your sofa as you recline back on the cushions. “Get that slice of cake for me, would you?”

Gabriel ignores his quickly inflating erection, zipping to the kitchen and back to offer you the plate, a small fork balanced on the side. He’s praised for his initiative, stroked on the head like a rather cute dog, and he can’t do anything but melt and lean into your touch. A tiny birthday hat is slipped atop his head, the elastic stretched under his chin to really set the mood for a birthday party.

The both of you share a giggle for a moment, enjoying how ridiculous he looks with the cone nestled in his closely shorn hair. Between laughs and jokes, you feed him the cake bit by bit, taking little bites for yourself. Gabriel has pushed his way between your bare thighs, resting his elbows on your legs as he presses his chest between your legs, head extended to close his lips around the fork.

The mildly sweet taste of the cake blooms across his taste buds, delicious but overpowering and making him salivate for something a little earthier, a little muskier.

“I’m still hungry, mistress,” he leers at you with dark eyes, lowering his head and sticking his tongue out to suggest that he wants a taste of something different.

You raise a brow at his smouldering gaze, at his innocent expression as he puts his pillowy lips to your left hip. As he kisses it gently and murmurs a quiet ‘please’ against your skin. You pretend to consider it with a finger tapping on your chin with a hum, all the while enjoying the cajoling butterfly kisses that he dots over your hipbone and upper thigh. His well-trimmed beard offers a toe-curling sensation as he ventures closer and closer to where you’re absolutely dripping for him.

“Mmm,” he growls into the crease of your hip, slowly dipping his nose down into your inner thigh, “You smell so fucking good.”

Rather than give in to your desire to ride that mouth, you cup his face and angle him up so he looks at you. “Are you implying that I don’t feed you well, slave?” He licks his lips. “Or are you just greedy?”

His growl reverberates through your palm and your knees that are pressed against the sides of his barrel chest. “I think I’m just spoiled, mistress.” Gabe grins up at you and admires your smile at you snort at his admission.

Bratty or not, that statement is quite true; after all, you’re very invested in making sure your boy wants for nothing. Well, unless it’s in the bedroom, in which case you’re very invested in making him beg for every little thing. Today is different, however. Today is his birthday.

“And what does my spoiled little slave want, hm?”

Gabe grins toothily and closes his teeth around the flesh of your thigh, sensually rasping his teeth and his bristly beard over your smooth skin. “Will you feed me more, mistress? A growing boy needs his food.”

“The only part of you that’s growing is your head.” It’s punctuated by a flick to his forehead, followed by a hand smoothing over the irritated skin. “But…” You trail off, waving your finger before his face and watching him follow its movement, “Today’s your birthday.” As you conclude your sentence, you toss away the fork and plunge that finger into the frosty remnants of the cake.

Oh, Gabriel knows exactly where this is going. He licks his lips hungrily, saliva pooling in his mouth as he watches you spread your thighs at a frustratingly slow pace. Slowly, so so slowly, the scent of your musk strengthens and he groans with shuttered eyes. Your finger descends and streaks the frosting over your clit and lips, moaning teasingly as you swirl your finger around your button and spreading it all over.

Your slave is drooling now, far too busy staring longingly at your pussy to bother wiping up the saliva dripping from his lips. It’s flattering and oh so fucking hot.

“I thought you said you were hungry, slave,” you purr and beckon him close with that frosting and slick covered finger. It goes over his trembling lip and slips inside for a heartbeat. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to complete your sentence. Oh no, he dives straight in and throws your thighs over his shoulders for good measure. The move makes you slide down the cushions with a squeal, a squeal that turns into pleasure-drunk laughter as he digs in to feast like a starving man. The frosting disappears quickly, but he doesn’t care, not when he’s drinking your nectar right from the source. His teeth and tongue both rile you into a frenzy, making your thighs squeeze his head and rub over his ears as you writhe against his mouth.

His hunger is plain to see and feel, but despite it driving you almost to your orgasm, you yank him away by the hair and slap his face a little to bring him back to reality.

Gabe’s growl is as dark as the snarl on his handsome face. “I wasn’t done.”

Your hand lands threateningly on his thick neck, squeezing as hard as you can though it doesn’t even affect his breathing. “Be nice. I was just thinking that since today is your birthday, you’re going to get a special treat. You’re going to tell me how many times you want to cum today, and how you want to cum. If you’re a good boy, you’ll get what you want. Understood?”

His throat bobs under your palm, his snarl softening until he’s grinning seductively at you again. “What a present, my mistress.” He takes your free palm and presses a damp kiss to it. “I want you to ride me, mistress. To cum on my cock and take me until I can’t think of anything but your touch and your pussy. If I cum from that, then it’s a privilege.” He kisses your wrist reverently, dark eyes locked with yours. “My orgasms are never a right. My pleasure is granted only by your grace.”

Shivers run down your spine at the sincerity in his tone and his gaze, that he truly means it – that he’s okay if he doesn’t get to cum even on his birthday. Oh, this is a rush. You bare your teeth in a predatory snarl and haul him up onto the couch next to you, slinging your leg over his hip in one smooth motion. And then, before he can land his hands on your hips, you slip his cock right into you and sink down until his balls press up against your ass. “Ding ding ding~ Good boy.”

Gabriel chokes out a filthy moan and hugs your waist in a death grip, stuffing his face into your neck at the sudden sensation of your silky walls closing around him that he’s pushed right up to the edge in a manner of seconds. “I-I’m almost-!” His normally deep voice is thin and airy as he pleads for you to slow down.

“Already?” You laugh and ride him harder and faster, hearing the sound of skin slapping against skin overpower his reedy wheezes. “That’s quick.” But for all your taunting, you’re close too. His hands are squeezing and running over your thighs and ass and back mindlessly, his thick callouses rasping over your skin as much as his beard is against your neck and shoulders.

Before long, you’re both kissing each other feverishly, teeth clacking and noses brushing, tongues dancing and saliva dripping. It’s heady and you honestly couldn’t think of anything other than that you really wanted him to cum inside you. Your thighs are shaking with the exertion of riding his thick body, of stretching wide over his muscled thighs and hips and raising yourself above his monster cock. So tired, in fact, that you end up gyrating and grinding in his lap quickly, mashing your clit against his pubic hair to push you towards your orgasm.

Gabriel picks up on this and rocks his hips harder, clumsily matching your pace for how close he is to his own end. He pulls his lips from you with a sharp pop, darting down to lavish the tops of your breasts with more kisses and licks and sucks. When he pulls your nipple into his mouth to suckle on it, to nibble on it – that’s what pushes you over the edge.

You cum with a sharp moan of his name, curling into his embrace and winding your arms around his head as you tell him to cum, cum now, in a rough, pleasure hoarse voice. Gabriel obeys, eyes squinting and teeth bared in a guttural snarl. His trunk-like arms anchor your hips down down down as he fucks upwards, jamming his cock as far in as humanly possible until you swear you can taste him in the back of your throat.

His cock throbs and twitches inside you, his cum running white hot and filling you up until you almost feel bloated with the amount that he pumped into you. The weakness in his thighs as he shakes is intoxicating, the feeling that you rendered him limp almost as addictive as seeing the cum-drunk expression on his face.

It takes a while for you both to come down from your highs. You’re still slumped over his head and shoulders, arms limply draped around his neck as you struggle to catch your breath. The throbbing thickness inside you and the leaking cum isn’t helping much either. Gabriel isn’t winded as much as he is brainless and boneless, head tilted back on the cushion and nose breathing hot air into your clavicle. He recovers first, rousing from his daze by wrapping his arms around you securely and rubbing his big hand over your sweaty back.

“Thanks for the present, mistress,” he whispers into your skin, kissing the brilliant red marks as he does.

A quiet groan answers him, “You’re welcome, baby. Happy birthday.” By now, you’ve gathered yourself and slide off him so you can stagger over to the kitchen to retrieve a bag of goodies. You pass it to him and take a seat in his lap, ignoring the feeling of his seed leaking out of you and onto his thighs as you watch him open the brown paper bag.

Immediately, his eyes light up and he looks to you with a trembling lip. “You-you remembered? You found them?”

You press a kiss to the corner of his lip and take the tamale to feed it to him. “I found them. Like I said, only the best for my slave.”

Gabriel bites into it, moans at the familiar taste of the masa that hits his tongue. “Mistress, you spoil me~” When he finishes, he takes another to feed it to you too. “I love you, my perfect mistress.”

His actions are greeted by that smile he so loves, and he falls impossibly deeper in love at that moment. “I love you too, my perfect slave.”


End file.
